Boring Afternoon?
by phrosty-chan
Summary: Marik is bored, so he reads a yaoi magazine to see how to do... Certain things. Bakura catches him at it, but Marik's not giving up his magazine or his pride so easily, and Bakura isn't the type to speak rationally...Please R


"Marik," sighed the pale, white haired boy, rubbing his bright red eyes and groaning at the sight of another boy with chocolate brown skin and deep purple eyes, who was goggling at a hardcore 18+ yaoi magazine he'd secretly bought behind the other's back.

The boy spun around. "B-Bakura!" he sputtered, shutting the magazine from the article of 'how to tell an M fanfiction before its too late' and stuffing it under his bed and looking flustered. "I didn't see you there-" "So you lied," said Bakura suddenly.

Marik looked confused. "About what?" Bakura chuckled and said, "You never told me you were gay. Whose the lucky man?" Marik's face went bright red. "I AM NOT GAY!" he yelled. "Oh really?" said Bakura with a voice of silk. "What's this then?" he had pulled out the magazine.

Marik's face went, if possible, still more red. "Put that down, you little asshole," he hissed, grabbing Bakura's arm and wrenching it towards him so he could snatch the yaoi magazine from him.

Bakura's voice instantly changed from smooth and silky to dangerously low and sharp as a knife. "Don't mess with me, or I'll cut your fucking hand off." Marik seemed not to be fazed, and laughed mirthlessly. "If you think you can scare me, you piece of-" And then they were on the floor.

Marik dug his nails into Bakura's back, trying to tear that smooth, milky skin. Little drops of dark blood started spreading on Bakura's clean shirt. "You selfish bastard!" Marik growled. Bakura kicked out, and sent a lamp crashing down on top of them. Glass went everywhere, and Marik got a bloody cut on his cheek.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" roared Bakura, his eyes blazing. He bit Marik's shoulder, hard. Blood seeped into his mouth as Marik cursed at the pain. He scrabbled at Bakura, and punched his eye. A big, black and blue bruise began to form.

"Stupid, idiotic asshole!" shrieked Bakura, slamming a radio into Marik's forehead. Lights popped in front of his eyes and he couldn't think for a moment, but when he could, all he thought of was the hatred for the man looking down at him.

"You know what?!" Marik shouted, his face now so angry he looked like his Yami. "You're just a stupid, annoying, bossy, heartless PIG!" Of all the insults Marik had made, this was the one that had the most effect. Bakura punched him in the face so hard, he felt his nose break.

Blood pouring rapidly, he sat up, panting and swearing wildly. Looking at Bakura, he said, coldy, "I'm going to get some ice from the fridge. Don't. Fucking. Move." and he stomped out of the room. The Thief King chuckled.

Marik returned about ten minutes later, his nose considerably less bloody, but still broken. He looked at Bakura, who was smiling at him. "Shut the fuck up, you asshole," spat Marik.

"How's your nose?" Bakura asked. "Not very good, thanks to you, douchebag," muttered Marik, sitting down on the floor beside him. "You broke m-" "M'srry." Marik glanced at Bakura, who was looking at the carpet. "What the hell did you just say?" "M'srry..."

Annoyed, Marik grabbed Bakura and put his face close to his. "God dammit Bakura, spit it out!" "I'm sorry." said Bakura. There was absolute silence in the room. Marik was staring, dumbfounded, at Bakura. "Did...did you just say..." Marik whispered. Bakura laughed. "Are you dumb, dumbass? I just apologized to you!" Marik blinked. "Yeah, I know, but...never mind."

Bakura and Marik sat there in uncomfortable silence.

"Hey, Bakura?"

"Yes, Marik?"

"Guess what."

"What."

"I love you."

The words were out of Marik's mouth before he could stop them. He turned extremely red, and clamped his hands over his face. Bakura grasped Marik's hands and whispered huskily in his ear; "Marik...open your eyes, Marik..." he did. And that was when they kissed.

Marik ran his tongue along Bakura's lips, then allowing his tongue to venture into Bakura's mouth. Then, suddenly, Bakura bit Marik's tongue. He pulled away, livid. "Bakura!?" he cried, cringing slightly at the metal taste of blood. "What the fuck?!"

"God," breathed Bakura, "I just wanted to get a little dominance."

Marik growled."Oh, I'll show you dominance!" he yelled, and flung Bakura over onto his back.

The Thief King coughed as he got the wind knocked out of him. "What are y...you doing, you idiot?!" he chocked. Marik put a finger to his lips, bent down, and kissed the latter softly on the mouth.

Bakura's insides burned with heat that only something like a spicy chili could provide. He slid his hand onto Marik's back, and, like a snake, began to pull up his shirt. Marik moaned just a little, and Bakura could feel Marik's skin prickle. He smiled. He might be beneath Marik, but he was definitely the one in control.

Bakura might be in control of dominance, but he was definitely not in control of his own desires. He ripped Marik's shirt off so suddenly, it tore.

Bakura didn't care. He didn't care one bit. All he cared about was the flesh that was exposed to him, this beautiful chocolate brown skin that was his. All his. Marik shivered as Bakura's rough tongue licked from his neck to his bare stomach to his navel. Bakura reached down, his hands like snakes, and tenderly stroked the bulge in Marik's pants.

An animal-like sensation crept down Marik's body, all the way down to his-"Dammiiiiiiiiit!" someone yelled. Marik looked up. A girl was sitting at a computer, her face as red as a beet and a little bit of blood dribbling from her nose.

"It's t-too much!" she moaned. "This sucks! I really wanted to finish this nice Thiefshipping fanfiction, and I can't even get myself to write the good part! And it was so kawaii up to this poiiiiiiint... Ugh!" she moaned again. "Who...who is that?" said Bakura to Marik. "I have no fucking idea," mumbled Marik. The girl seemed to have heard them, for she turned around and gasped. "What the hell?!" she spluttered.

"You...you guys...what?!" she looked on the ground an saw the torn shirt. A wicked gleam came into her eye. "I'm quite sorry." she said, smiling. "I didn't know you were there." Neither did we, thought Marik. "Please continue," purred the girl. "I'll go away." Marik wasn't convinced. He got up and said, "Okay. Who the hell are you?"

"Me?" asked the girl. "I'm the writer." Marik and Bakura looked dumbfounded. "The...the writer?" they said. "Yerp, I'm the one that wrote this story." Marik and Bakura looked still more confused. "The story?! What the FUCK are you talking about?!" cried Bakura.

The girl looked exasperated. "I wrote the story you guys are doing right now, fuzzbrains!" she said.

Marik looked at Bakura. "It's like she's a... fortune teller, or something," muttered Marik. "It's strange, but you might be right."

They both turned their eyes to the girl, who grinned. "Continue, please," she said exitedly.

"What do you-no!" yelled Bakura. "I don't know who you are, bitch, but we're not going to do anything with you here!" The girl sighed. "Aw, man. well, whatever. See ya later." she picked up the computer in one hand and her chair in the other, and tromped out the door.

"Whàt... Whæt thë héll!" grūmblêd Mærìk. "Thãt wås wēírd..." Hę lôõkéd āt Bâkûrâ ānd thėn døwn át hįs shïrt. "Hėy!" hē crïëd. "Yõù rįppèd mÿ nęw shîrt!" Bækúræ sîghêd, ėxãspårātéd. "Shút ùp änd kīss mê." Märik blínkęd. "Ìsn't thât ã sœng õr sømėth-" Bût Bákûrà préssêd hís lįps tø thë lættęrs bèførė hē cœūld fínïsh hįs sēntêncë.

The End.

_I know. It sucked. But it was my first fanfiction ever! So don't judge. If you do-_

_Bakura: She'll come and rape you while you're sleeping,_

_Hey! That wasn't-_

_Bakura: Suit yourself, I thought it was rape._

_Uh...Well, anyway. R&R! I really want your feedback._

_Also, I'm sorry. I was extremely bored when I came to that last part. _;_


End file.
